


That which we are

by Sky_King



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arrancar Arc, Calling it a war is more of a joke now than ever, Canon Divergence - Winter War, Character Study, Found Family, Gen, Somehow, Starrk makes himself a family, Starrk's POV, The Espada survive, The war as seen through Starrk's eyes, mostly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:54:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24218470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sky_King/pseuds/Sky_King
Summary: Coyote Starrk follows Aizen because he doesn't have anything else.Then he makes himself a family and learns how to protect them, even from Aizen himself.
Relationships: Coyote Starrk & Baraggan Louisenbaim, Coyote Starrk & Espada, Coyote Starrk & Tia Harribel, Lilynette Gingerbuck & Coyote Starrk
Comments: 13
Kudos: 172
Collections: Villain of My Own Story Exchange 2020





	That which we are

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chaos_Greymistchild](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaos_Greymistchild/gifts).



When the nameless Arrancar was born, only the cold gaze of the moon was there to greet him.

Born again from a broken mask, cracked under the pressure of his own power.

Alone with the sand on his skin, the moon on his back. The echoes of life’s losing battle to the overwhelming power he was cursed with.

The world was new, the world was cold.

And from the shattered remains of his mask, a tiny firecracker emerged.

“Name’s Lilynette,” she said, standing proud. Standing small. “And you’re Starrk.”

_Ah,_ he thought as he let the sand pull him down, lull him to sleep. _That is my name_.

_We are Starrk and Lilynette. We are family._

They were family. But they also were One.

And in the cold universe of sand and moon and endless death, that was not enough.

So when a soul walked up to them, nonchalance in his step, Starrk was intrigued.

And when he offered him a place far from the sand, a place to belong to, and people to call his, he didn’t hesitate.

* * *

Living in Las Noches was a strange affair.

After spending an eternity in the darkness of their world, moving in to Las Noches, with its eternal sun was a striking change.

But even more surprising than soft linen under his hands, and soft warmth on his skin, was the lack of solitude this place offered.

Starrk suddenly found himself surrounded on all sides by other arrancars, other souls strong enough not only to withstand his own, but continue growing unhindered.

It was…

“I will be giving you all ranks, according to your power. If you wish to ascertain your strength there’s only one way to do it.”

…Tiresome.

“We have to fight them! We have to fight all of them!” Lilynette screamed, practically bouncing off the walls, half-angry, half-excited.

Starrk groaned, his face pressed against a pillow. Had he ever been like her? Young and reckless and alive?

“We’re the Primera Espada. There’s nothing more after that.”

“So what? It’s just a stupid number? We gotta show them who’s boss!”

“I’m going to sleep,” Her counterpart decided then, still not moving an inch, slowly suffocating against the soft material in his face. Lilynette grumbled some more, still abuzz with energy but in the end she too huddled by his side and fell asleep.

A too familiar gesture, in an unfamiliar world.

(The sensation of sand sliding down his limbs, the cold press of loneliness nothing but a distant nightmare.)

* * *

Starrk thought a lot about the man who had saved them.

He respected Aizen for his power, for the sheer tenacity of his soul. He followed Aizen as a means not to have to make more decisions on his own, as a means to escape the guilt of how his every action wrought death over the sandy planes.

He followed him, searching for some of that warmth of his reiatsu brushing against another’s instead of suffocating it, consuming it whole.

He followed because Aizen would get his strong Arrancars, even if he had to rip them from Death’s clutches himself.

And he did, managing to rally up a dozen hollows with broken masks that thrived where others died.

(He gave him the closest thing to a family he would ever have.)

But even with everything he had given him, Starrk slept with one eye open.

He had never forgotten the cold hand on Lilynette’s back, as she had been dismissed as weak, shunted and ignored as nothing but Starrk’s power.

He had been alone in the neverending expanse of sand for a very long time but he recognized the hunger in Aizen’s eyes.

The Hunger for Power.

It almost rivaled Starrk’s own.

So Starrk slept in his sandless bed, sleeping to stave away the hunger, the death. He did not want to risk killing off his family without bonds.

They were a rowdy bunch.

Hostile and aggressive, they too followed Aizen for different reasons. For a promise of strong enemies, a promise for growth, a dare, a chance to finally one-up Aizen himself.

But they all followed him, and despite their numerous flaws, and anger issues, they eventually found a place to be.

From Sixth to Two, the lower Espada felt comfortable around him. They could sleep in his presence, could dream of fighting, and not disappear like Life’s afterthoughts.

They became a family without the bonds.

And no matter how flimsy and fake, they were Starrk’s family now.

* * *

Starrk liked Ichimaru Gin.

He was sneaky and a liar, but was the one who got the closest to understanding him.

When Nnoitra struck out someone much stronger than himself– Neliel, who was the closest thing Starrk had had to a friend– he’d almost lost his life to Starrk’s grief.

It had been an odd feeling, that one. He’d never had anyone to mourn and for a single second, he wished nobody had come close enough to make him feel their loss.

But as he was considering darker thoughts, a silver snake sneaked inside.

Gin had been the one to tell him, under the cover of the ever-present moon, that Nel was alive. Too weak to return, but not alone.

Not dead.

So long as Starrk did not seek her out.

(It soothed a pain he never knew how to acknowledge.)

Lilynette had screamed at him that they should seek revenge anyway, that Nnoitra had hurt their family just to rise in the ranks.

But their peace was fragile, and Nel was still alive, even if Starrk would never see her again.

(Lilynette had called him a coward as he let sleep claim him again.)

(Of course he was a coward, he wanted to tell her. All of his bravery and courage had been splintered off to create the little firecracker that loved to kick him awake.)

Or so he claimed but when Nnoitra tried going after Harribel with the same underhanded maneuvers, he found the end of his life with a gunshot through the head.

Harribel had been grateful for it. She began mingling their reiatsu’s together whenever they were close, letting his desolate reiatsu find a respite within hers. She knew what a family was, and offered it to him.

He ate it all up, eager to sate his Hunger.

She was warmth.

(Baraggan made fun of him for bowing his head to her, but pride was meaningless before his Hunger. If deferring to someone weaker than him, kept the cold sand away, he wouldn’t hesitate.)

On the other side of things, Grimmjow and Lilynette got along like a house on fire, but despite his foul language, Starrk never had to step in between their spars.

(Grimmjow acknowledged and respected her when even Aizen had not. How was he not to care for the blue-haired brat in turn?)

Slowly but surely, his empty, unbeating heart began filling up with his people.

His family without bonds began to become real.

And while this was all thanks to Aizen, the longer Starrk was aware of his manipulations, of the way he used the Espada’s adoration for his own uses, the more irritated he became.

It’s not that he wanted to be the only one they’d look up to– Harribel had never bowed to him, and he wouldn’t ask her to– but ever so slowly the sense of protectiveness grew within.

He respected Aizen for his Hunger. He respected his position and his power, but Starrk was no longer by himself.

Having a family meant protecting them.

(He’d learnt that the hard way.)

So when Tousen tried to cut off Grimjow’s arm for disobeying another man’s orders, he was dead before Aizen could do more than sigh in aggravation.

He did not reprimand Starrk. Perhaps he too respected Starrk’s newfound Instincts.

A Hunger that wasn’t quite that.

A yearning for things he now had.

* * *

“I see you have grown protective of the family I’ve given you,” Aizen smiled indulgent and benevolent like a predator promising to end it in a single bite. “I’m glad.”

“Thanks,” Starrk said, respectfully keeping at least one eye open to look at him as he laid in bed. Lilynette huddled by his prone form, like a tense little cat.

“Is there anything else I could do for you?”

Starrk wondered if this man knew that his Hunger of Possession always gave his flowery words away.

 _Lean on me._ He said.

_Depend on me._

_Don’t you see that the one good thing in your life is thanks to me?_

“No, Aizen-sama.” Starrk drawled, sighing. “You’ve done plenty for me. All I need right now is some sleep.”

“Alright then, don’t forget we have a meeting today.”

But Starrk had already disappeared behind heavy lids.

* * *

Baraggan was a pain.

Insecure in his power, his Hunger was weak. He Hungered for All, but without knowing what it was.

As a result, he frequently lashed out at him, trying to goad him into a fight they both know he’d lose.

Starrk didn’t much care for him.

He saw Aizen taking advantage of that misdirected Hunger, and let it be.

He saw Aizen preening and boasting and earning Harribel’s loyalty. He thought her bonds would keep her centered.

Most of them had a natural defense against Aizen. Baraggan’s arrogance, Harribel’s family. Grimmjow’s Hunger for a fight, Szayel’s experiments and so on and so forth.

And then there was Ulquiorra.

The boy with the self-destructive Hunger.

Who had died in solitude, yet hungered for it.

(No emptier existence than his.)

Enamored by attention, starved for touch, he was the easiest to fall for Aizen’s machinations.

As the bonds of his new-found family continued to strengthen, Starrk continued to care more and more about the people around him.

And thus, about Aizen’s unpleasant involvement with them.

Starrk watched the starved teen destroying his own body to please Aizen. He watched him enduring the pain, the uncomfortable regeneration over and over for just a single word of praise.

Starrk **hated** it.

But he knew that behind that smug mask, Aizen was watching him, them. He was wary of his own creations.

And so he began to protect them, truly protect them. From themselves, from Aizen. He had to be subtle, not pushing too far as to arise suspicion.

But by the time Aizen called them all to fight, as their realm was breached by more Shinigami looking for Aizen’s bait, not many of the Espada belonged to Aizen any longer.

* * *

The Privaron Espada were an odd existence. Doomed to mediocrity by Aizen’s own hand, they remained out of some sense of pride.

Starrk wondered if they had also fallen for Aizen’s velvety lies.

He did not care for them, as he did his own Espada, but feeling them disappear into nothingness was unpleasant.

They had forsaken everything but their pride, a shadow of the Hunger that governed Starrk’s life. They had fought for it, even though they knew they would lose.

They had issued a single request. To not become nothing.

To be eaten before they disappeared.

Starrk did not want to, he did not need any more power, but his pack was no longer made up of his lonesome, and Harribel gladly took up the chance to join their soul remains to hers, becoming one, made up of many.

She fought the intruders next, not for pride, but to protect the remains of the Privaron. She wasn’t met with much resistance, once her enemies realized this.

Grimmjow stepped in next, his Hunger for rivalry heavy with bloodlust. It was gratifying to see it answered in the way the Shinigami child’s reiatsu met his, tainted with its own Hunger.

Odd thing, this child’s Hunger. Not only was it a Hollow’s essence, but a Hunger to Protect was nearly unheard of. Protection for the sake of protection was worthless to a hollow, after all.

(The lack of possessiveness rang false to his Hollow self, maybe as much as the Shinigami stench to his nose.)

Starrk, still sleeping with one eye open, looked out for Aizen, watching for any change in behavior. Any sign that he was onto them.

But he just sat there in his cold throne, a hand trapping the bait he had brought by his side.

Where had he even gotten that girl?

Aizen’s eyes were focused on the fights broadcasted through his screen, Starrk was watching them through the different reiatsu waves that followed.

And still, Ulquiorra’s fight managed to surprise them both.

The hollow went all out, drenching the entire world in the loneliness of his Hunger, he fought and fought and Starrk wondered if he’d ever allowed himself to see he was not alone.

If he would really throw everything away for the fake illusion that Aizen gave him.

It came close.

It came so close that Starrk felt tension in every fibre of his being. He felt his hackles rising, his teeth bared.

But the human child disappeared from Aizen’s side during the fight, her presence so weak it had been muddled by the fight above.

She disappeared, not to run away, but _towards the fight_.

(Smarter souls had perished under the pressure of the reiatsu.)

Belatedly he realized that maybe, maybe Ulquiorra’s fascination with her went beyond that of Aizen’s new pet.

She appeared on Aizen’s screen, pale and scared yet looking at the standstill as if it wasn’t her deathbed.

And then she turned to Ulquiorra and promised she would return for him.

(He wondered when she had managed to mend his heart.)

Enraged and disappointed, Aizen took his top three remaining Espada with him. Or so he said, but he picked Yammy to stand in for an injured Harribel and it was hard not to laugh at them.

* * *

They walked the planes towards the Human World and were met with war.

They met the Gotei’s swords with their own, but only Yammy fought to his full extent.

After his laughingly easy defeat, Starrk stood down, a sharp eye out for Baraggan, and the lesser Arrancar that had been dragged out as fodder.

“Fighting is a pain, wouldn’t you say?” He said to his opponent – a captain, one of the strongest souls he could perceive. Not a Hunger, he was not Hollow, but his reiatsu was just as abrasive.

The other man tilted his hat up, a hopeful sort of confusion in his eyes. He smiled a lazy smile. “It’s not quite my cup of tea. But I won’t be neglecting my duties as a member of the Gotei. A pity, truly. You don’t sound like that bad of a man.”

He said that, but the arch of his sword was lazy and slow– a question in the sharp glint of the blade.

“What if we weren’t your enemies?” Starrk said, nonchalant as he used his gun to parry the attack.

The captain hummed, “That I would love to see.”

“Do you Shinigami know the phrase ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’?”

“We do,” Kyouraku said, a glint to his inscrutable eyes. “What I’m more interested in is why do you?”

Odd thing, Starrk wasn’t too sure either. “Unimportant. So will you?”

A sorrowful smile as heavy as his regret. “If Yama-jii orders me to then… Well, the fight has been tiresome… if my hand slips and you escape then certainly nobody could blame me.”

“Tch,” Starrk cursed, giving his back to the apologizing man. No matter, it would have to do.

* * *

“Baraggan!” Starrk shouted, ignoring the dainty little thing that thought she could hurt the self-proclaimed King of Hueco Mundo. “We’re leaving!”

The skeletal hollow laughed gleefully as he turned on Aizen. Unsurprising, really. Both Baraggan’s Hunger and their own survival hinged on this man’s death,

(In the middle of a war, it filled Starrk with pride to feel Baraggan’s Hunger finally solidifying into a Hunger for Victory.)

Aizen disappeared before Baraggan reached him, before Starrk could think about helping him.

And then Baraggan was being run through, as Aizen appeared at his back. He leaned in closer as if to whisper, but his words, tight with anger, carried through.

“I will not stand traitors, Baraggan. You’ve disappointed me.”

“Oh, have I?” Baraggan said, his voice filled with mirth. And then Aizen realized his sword was trapped between miasma-laden ribs and it was slowly dissolving.

He raised his free hand, a kidou spell forming but then an endlessly long sword ran through his unbeating heart.

Aizen managed a laugh, two, then Ichimaru Gin took off his mask at long last.

“ _Korose, Kamishini no Yari.”_

Aizen died between screams of outrage but Starrk no longer cared about him. He just saw Harribel and Baraggan injured and weak, the lesser Arrancars shuffling in unease, the war at a fragile standstill.

With no leader, there was no war.

“We’re leaving!” Starrk told them, his voice ringing loud with his power, each word punctured by his Hunger; creating several garganta and easing his comrades through it. He avoided hesitant swings of swords as he barreled into Baraggan who was about to get his ass killed.

“I said we’re pulling back,” he growled, bared teeth at odds with his reiatsu tightly under wraps.

“Bah!” The skeletal man exclaimed disdainfully, but let himself get pulled along. His reiatsu, an echo of Death, coated his fingers, eating away at Starrk’s own.

Starrk didn’t mind. Baraggan could never eat enough to be of concern.

* * *

They were not chased, a show of clemency or a desire to tend to their own wounded perhaps. But the Shinigami stayed in that other world, as Starrk and his brethren returned to a place of empty darkness.

It felt like home.

“Now that the pretty boy is gone, Las Noches is mine,” the self-proclaimed King said as they crashed onto the cold sand.

“I’m not sleeping outside like a dog.” Starrk replied for the sake of arguing, as he shoved the King into the sand.

Baraggan sputtered, aiming a weak strike at his legs. He was smiling, his Resurrección fading in exhaustion. Starrk wasn’t sure he didn’t look just as silly.

Thankfully Lilynette was still stuck as a gun in his hands so she wouldn’t give them away.

“You’re a coyote, that’s way worse.” Baraggan sneered, as he dusted sand off his tattered clothes. When he next spoke he was resolutely looking at Las Noches towering over them and not at him. “Nobody said anything about kicking you out. I’m the King of this place, and I say you have to stick around.”

He flinched when this made Harribel laugh, a rough, beautiful sound from the depths of her chest. Her reiatsu, weakened but mending reached them as she drew closer, mingling with them all in greeting.

“I wouldn’t let you kick him out anyway,” she said, a cheeky tilt to her gait. She cleanly bypassed them both, not even a nod or a bow as she focused on tending to the confused and misguided army behind them.

“That woman still shows no respect…” Baraggan grumbled under his breath, but it was lighthearted at best. He watched her work with an approving air around him, before joining Starrk in his slow walk back to the palace.

“So…” he began like an old man fishing for gossip. “You’re not… going to fight for the throne?”

The strongest Arrancar in the world snorted, letting his feet drag in the sand. “Death should be the ruler here. I just want to sleep. Harribel might contest you though.”

“Bah! What could she do?”

“Make the entire Hueco Mundo into her family and steal them from under your rotting nose.”

Baraggan shot him a disgruntled expression, but the nervous glance he gave the Shark Hollow was not missed.

“What about you? Not going to try the same?”

“Too bothersome, I just want to sleep.” Starrk said, as he slowed down, contemplating if he couldn’t just lie down on the sand and sleep. He yawned. “Try not to die on me, I’m taking a nap.”

Now this, Harribel heard, by the way she threaded her reiatsu to his, letting it hum under his throat, warm and alive. It kept him walking, even if it wasn’t a reprimand.

It followed him as they entered the palace, where their little bat awaited.

Starrk’s Hunger pulsed painfully, begging him to eat the other’s sorrow. He just dragged him along to his room, throwing him down on the bed before crawling on himself. Smothering the teen in his own presence.

Grimmjow’s loud voice echoed around them, along with Lilynette’s screams.

Ah, so that’s where she had disappeared off to.

They’d probably got in a fight, but when Starrk next woke up, his puppy pile had grown.

When Coyote Starrk woke up, there were many reiatsu signals meshed with his own. There was soft linen under him, a warm sun over him. And many, many warm bodies asleep with him, his own little family he promised to protect.

They fit in just perfectly, his Hunger nothing but a distant dream.

It would return, it was his reason for being.

But it would not consume him whole.

(Starrk had respected Aizen for everything he had accomplished, and thankful for everything he had given him.)

(Warm and surrounded, the hollow grinned. He was thankful to Aizen for dying when his time was right.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
